


The Path

by Calico (Calico321)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen, prequel to The Mandalorian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22344691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calico321/pseuds/Calico
Summary: How did The Child end up in the middle of nowhere surrounded by a bunch of Niktos?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	The Path

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to make sense of how our dear sweet baby wound up with a bunch of gangsters that just seemed to be waiting. Unfortunately that means no Mando, so I don't know if this will be well-received or not. Feedback appreciated!

21 BBY

“Master Yoda! Master Yoda!”

Mace Windu frowned at the jarring voice and pounding feet that sounded behind him and his old friend in the quiet sanctum of the Jedi Temple. They paused in their walk and waited for the young padawan to reach them, nearly breathless with what appeared to be excitement. He stared down at the diminutive green Jedi in wonder.

“Masters…! Ma-master Yoda…” the boy gaped at them. He was about thirteen, not yet apprenticed, possibly nervous at addressing the elders.

“Calm yourself, young one,” Mace chided. “Center yourself with the Force, and be out with it.”

“Yes, Master Windu,” the boy replied and closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. “Master Yoda, sir, you are requested at the nursery.”

“Nursery?” Yoda spoke the word softly, as if testing it and glanced up at Mace.

“Ye-yes, sir. It’s urgent,” the boy replied.

“Then, to the nursery we should go, hmmm?” Yoda asked.

“After you,” Mace replied and they followed the padawan back the way he had come.

They turned into the training wing and passed a class of younglings taking their first steps in mastering the Force. As the elders passed by they were greeted with a chorus of “Good morning, Master!” and they waved back with smiles.

The boy led them up a set of stairs and down an open hall that ran along the back wall of the large training room. Finally they rounded a corner to the left that led to a single, closed door behind which held the nursery. The nursery served mainly as a temporary housing option for the younger trainees who came to the temple, who were not quite developed enough to begin full training with their older peers.

The boy tapped the door pad and a soft computerized voice asked for his identification. “Padawan Eayun Poll.”

“Accepted.”

The door retracted and the padawan stepped back, gave a quick bow, and disappeared back down the hall. Mace allowed his friend to go first and they filed into the room. It was not a large area, perhaps sixty by one hundred meters, never meant to house more than a half dozen small beings at any given time. There was an array of tiny beds, low tables, a few shelves of items needed to keep young minds of a variety of species entertained, and a few droids idling by. It was a cozy quiet area that few got to see. Mace himself couldn’t remember the last time he had set foot in the room. It certainly wasn’t a place for urgent matters concerning council members.

A few meters inside stood a female in Jedi robes, her back to them. Her light hair was plaited and pinned up. She seemed to be gently swaying and possibly humming. Hearing their footsteps, she turned around and her face showed immediate relief as she rushed forward.

“Oh, thank the stars!” Then as if remembering herself, she gave a formal bow. “Masters, I’m honored with your audience.”

Mace smiled wryly. “Aranthe,” he greeted his former apprentice. The young woman was in her thirties now, but she had been his last apprentice ten years ago, and unfortunately his only failure. While she had a few strong Force-given gifts, she was wholly unable to satisfactorily complete her trials. No less than three times. However, her pleas to the council that she not be ejected completely from the Order had been accepted, albeit with reluctance only after Mace had secretly advocated for her, and she was eventually given dominion over the nursery, though she held no status as a Jedi.

She stood before them now with a bundle wrapped in a blanket cradled in her arms and gave Mace a quick nod in acknowledgment before looking intently at Yoda. “Master Yoda, someone dropped this off this morning! I-I don’t know what to do!” Then she simply stood there.

“Care to show us what is so disturbing you so greatly?” Mace prompted gently.

“Oh, right.” She reached up with her left hand and released a section of the swaddling from the top end of the bundle to reveal a small obloid head and large wing-like ears protruding out from each side. The shade of green was lighter than his old friend’s, but the resemblance to the Jedi was unmistakable. The small head swiveled towards them and Mace was taken aback by the large liquid brown eyes that looked so directly at them. A small coo escaped the tiny mouth.

Mace looked down at Yoda, whose brows were furrowed in thought. “Where did you get this?” Mace asked.

“Someone left it at the front door, in a basket, very early. And there’s a note.” She produced a small square of flimsiplast. “But,” she coughed almost embarrassed, “I can’t read it and none of the droids could translate. I was hoping since it, well, looks like Master Yoda, that he might have some idea...”

“Come, come. Kneel down so closer I may see it,” Yoda spoke for the first time.

With a glance at Mace, Aranthe dipped to her knee so that Yoda could inspect the babe and then he took the flimsiplast from her.

“Can you read it?” Mace asked.

“Of course,” Yoda responded. “It says, ‘Afraid, we are. Hurt us, he has. Train him, if you must, but keep him, we cannot.’”

“Oh,” Aranthe breathed. “I already tested him. His midi-chlorian count is…well it rivals yours, master. And Jedi Knight Skywalker’s.”

“Hmmm,” Yoda responded and regarded the baby again.

“Do you know how old it is?” Mace asked.

“Young, he must be. No more than twenty, he is.”

Aranthe blinked. “Twenty…months?”

“Years.” Yoda ignored her sputtered cough. “Just emerged from his larval phase, I suspect.”

“Larva?” It was Mace’s turn to be surprised. He had never pried into his friend’s enigmatic background. There had to be a reason the records were mute on the subject.

“Yes,” Yoda said wistfully. “A peaceful time, it is. Twenty years connecting to the Force, absorbing it.” He tittered a small laugh.

“So your people are all Force sensitive?” Mace asked.

“No, no. Feel the Force, we can. Commune with it, we do. But not manipulate, usually. To wield the Force, that is rare.”

Thinking of Yoda and their fellow council member, Yaddle, Mace surmised, “And when one does, they are very powerful?”

“Yes,” Yoda pronounced gravely.

“Powerful enough, that a small baby could scare his own family?” Aranthe asked and Yoda nodded.

“Then,” Mace said, “we must keep him here under our protection until he is ready to train.”

“Yes.”

“How long will that take?” Aranthe asked.

Yoda placed a finger to his lips thoughtfully. “Talking he should be by sixty. Then lessons, he can participate in.”

“Sixty!” Aranthe exclaimed. “That’s…that’s another forty years!”

“Yes,” Yoda said with a smirk. “But good news, there is: walking he should be by his thirtieth hatch-day. Forty at the latest. Teeheehee.”

Aranthe’s face darkened. “You’ve got to be-” Mace cut her off with a glare. “Master Yoda,” she gritted out in an attempt to curb the disrespectful tone, “can you at least tell me what he can eat?”

“Oh, hmm.” Yoda approached and reached out a tridactyl hand to part the infant’s lips. The baby immediately made a squeak of disapproval and tried to turn away, but Yoda was successful in opening his mouth. Mace saw pinkish-green gums and nothing else. “Until his teeth come in, nothing with bones!”

Examination complete, Aranthe stood up. “Helpful,” she deadpanned and refused to look at Mace’s reproachful glance.

“Very well, then. Clear, your path is.” Yoda tapped his cane in finality and turned to leave the room. “See you at the council meeting, I will, Master Windu,” he said as he turned and walked away, raising a hand in farewell.

“Yes, Master Yoda, you will.”

When the door had closed behind him Aranthe rounded on Mace. “He can’t expect us to keep a baby here for forty years!”

“Well, is this a nursery, or is it not?” Mace replied with only a small hint of humor.

“Master...”

He held up a hand. “Aranthe, it was your wish to remain a part of this order. It appears your true purpose may have just been revealed to us.”

“To raise an infant for forty years?” she asked in a small voice.

“A very special, powerful infant,” he reminded her.

“But I’m not equipped to handle such power!”

“I believe you are. The Force has given you a new trial to embark on, and, if successful, you may yet be granted the rank of Jedi Knight.”

“At seventy-five,” she said flatly. “I’m not sure what use I’ll be then.”

“Look at Master Yoda – over eight hundred and could whip us all with one hand tied behind his back.” He winked at her.

“Master...”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and said, “At least you won’t be alone in here anymore.” Then he looked down and regarded the small being in her arms. “And he is really kind of cute. I’m sure the time’s going to fly by.” With a smile, he nodded to her. “May the Force be with you, padawan.” He turned and walked to the door.

“And with you, Master,” she sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> I have just the most basic, passing knowledge of Star Wars lore. I'm relying on Wookieepedia for a lot of stuff. Please feel free to point out any glaring errors. Thank you!
> 
> And again, let me know if this is something that is interesting to you. :)


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